


I'll save the world (mostly because you're in it)

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-08
Updated: 2009-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal





	I'll save the world (mostly because you're in it)

_Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!_  
 _Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."_

When Andy walked into practice, dropping his worn bag onto a nearby stool, the entire band was talking excitedly about the Raven.

"And then! He just kinda swooped in and, and he punched one of the robbers in the _face_!" Patrick's hands were flailing. Pete always teased that Patrick was a little in love with the Raven, and Patrick never denied it. "It was fucking amazing."

"For real?" Joe's eyes were large as both Patrick and Pete began to re-enact the scene; Pete played the robbers (all of them) and Patrick was someone in distress. Andy rolled his eyes when Pete held his wrist with his other hand, sighting down his fingers as if he had a gun. Patrick cowered against the wall of their tiny and messy practice-space, shuddering realistically.

"There was this lady with a baby, right," Pete said, "and the Raven kinda jumped towards her when the other robber-dude started firing--"

"Were you actually there?" Andy asked in concern, sitting behind his kit and stretching his arms and hands. Pete shook his head and began squeezing an imaginary trigger.

"No, it was on TV like an hour ago, they had the video from the security camera for the store," Pete replied and then shouted, "BANG!"

Andy actually jumped, clenching his sticks. Patrick had his arms cradled, pretending to hold a baby and he flinched as well. Evidently, Patrick was an awesome actor, for the look on his face when he gazed up in grateful surprise was completely believable.

"The Raven was in front of her," Pete whispered with all the drama he could muster, which was quite a lot in Andy's humble opinion. "He had his wings spread wide and the bullets hit them. The guy fired like three times and the Raven took them all."

"Fuck," Joe said, caught up completely in the story. Andy was too, but there was something dark curling in his chest, made up of panic and fear. He fought this down, but it was a losing battle.

"Then he grabbed onto that guy's neck, flung him through the window and then flew off!" Pete was a little in love with the Raven as well, apparently.

"Oh man, I gotta watch the news at 10 to catch that shit," Joe said, strumming his guitar in a dreamy manner. "Amazing."

"I have to go," Andy said tightly, practically fleeing from behind his kit. He had to run back for his battered back-pack, Pete squawking at him incredulously. "I… I have class."

"Not until six thirty! I have your fucking timetable, man, I know shit like that!" Pete screeched, but Andy was already keying open his car-door, his hands shaking enough to miss the keyhole completely and scratch the paint. "Hurley, what the fuck!"

"I'll call you!" Andy yelled back, finally flinging himself in and cursing at his car when the engine refused to turn over for a few moments; it finally did and he hauled the gearstick into reverse, backing out so fast that someone on the main road had to swerve away, horn blaring. He then proceeded to break every speed limit on the way home.

It was a long drive, one that Andy made weekly to practice with this band, and he did it willingly; he got to stay over at Pete's house sometimes and eat some great home cooking, and it was okay. Their crazy little band had a chance: For such a tiny kid, Patrick had a mountain of potential packed into that voice of his and Joe's dedication and cheer were inspiring. Not to mention Pete's tenacity. With him pushing with the resolve of a bulldog, they might go places.

They might go places if Andy didn't _die_ of fucking worry first. Oh, he had his suspicions: Matt and that mysterious hero called the Raven were the same height, the same build; and Matt kept the weirdest hours. Bartending, he said and that might throw anyone else off, but Andy wasn't _anybody_. Matt never had a cold, never stayed hurt for too long. Fuck, just last week, Andy had tackled him during a game of football and Matt had struck his head on a sharp stone that had been jutting up out of the ground. He had gotten up, palm pressed to the back of his head and wincing; Andy had peeled his hand away, convinced that he would see a distressing gush of blood… but there had been nothing.

"Please," Andy begged now as he careened down the off-ramp, not knowing who he was praying to. "Please let that stupid shithead be okay."

The one thing he couldn't figure out were the wings. The Raven had ebony wings, beautiful and massive, actual wings with feathers and everything. They folded close to his body when he wasn't in flight, but they were bulky enough even then; but Andy would figure it out, right after he knocked Matt upside the head for hiding something like this and actually putting himself in danger. Didn't he know that one of them would realise it sooner or later?

He had to park on the side of the road when he got to the apartment, all the parking spaces were filled with strange cars; there was a party going on somewhere, Andy could hear the festive music, but he had no time to make a big issue of it like he normally would. He simply parked behind a large Ford Ranger, and ran all the way up the few flights of stairs to the place he shared with a bunch of crazy guys, including one monumentally stupid one who was probably a masked crusader with big stupid black wings.

And who probably had at least three bullets lodged into his back right now.

Andy burst in like a DEA agent on a bust, tossing his bag away, not caring where it landed; in the cramped kitchen, Matt screamed like a small frightened girl and whirled around from where he was standing at the sink, hands encased in ridiculous yellow gloves.

"What!" he yelled at Andy, who stalked over to him. "Are you _insane_ , bursting in here like you… what are you _doing_?"

Andy had gripped him firmly by the shoulder and pushed him to face the sink again, hauling up his shirt. He stared at the smooth expanse of brown back, panting.

There was nothing at all; no jagged round holes, no sign of wings, not even one fucking black feather. Andy actually pressed his fingers to all that warm skin, unthinkingly stroking down the bumps of Matt's spine.

Matt shivered and pulled away quickly, turning to give Andy a wide-eyed stare. "Okay," he said slowly, removing his gloves and placing them by the sink. "Want to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Andy stared up at him, his mouth working, but no words came out. He had been so fucking sure. Matt's glance flickered briefly to his lips for a moment, and then he shrugged it off, as he did most things.

"Ok, crazy person. Just, if you want to see me naked or whatever, you're gonna have to try a lot harder than that."

"It's not that," Andy returned weakly, finally finding his words. "It's… never mind."

Matt raised his dark eyebrows and then shook his head with a widening grin. "Don't you have some ancient civilizations class at six thirty?"

Andy managed a grin in return and turned to go to his bedroom; he froze in mid-step. Beside the closed garbage-bin, almost hidden between it and the side of the cupboards, was a black feather.

"Oh, shit," he heard Matt hiss as he went to pick it up. Andy held it up in the air like incriminating evidence, staring at it for a long moment before closing his eyes briefly and then opening them again to fix his gaze on Matt's unusually stony face. If he had taken out the trash before Andy had arrived, he would have definitely seen it, and thrown it out with everything else; but Andy had come home too early.

"Once upon a midnight dreary," he said slowly and Matt's mouth twisted.

"Don't," Matt started and then sighed, leaning back against the counter. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the thumb and forefinger of one hand. "Fuck."

"Are you really him?" Andy said, putting the feather down on the nearby counter. It was lovely, with downy barbs at the end of the shaft. Andy supposed it was one of the flight ones, for it was very long. "Are you?"

There was an extended silence, in which Andy fixed a burning gaze on Matt's face and Matt refused to meet it.

"Answer me," Andy snapped and Matt glared at him. Matt _never_ glared at Andy like that; Andy was struck by how odd such a cold anger looked on his face. "You _answer_ me, Mixon."

"Yes," Matt finally answered, more a growl than actual speech. He tried to walk out of the kitchen and head to his own bedroom, but Andy was quick, darting to stand in front of the doorway and blocking his path. Matt shook his head and backed away.

"Show me," Andy said and Matt's eyes widened. He shook his head but Andy was now stalking towards him; his eyes were probably gleaming behind his glasses. "I… I want to see."

"There's nothing to see." Matt kept backing away from him, and Andy thought it was kind of hilarious that this big superhero was backing away from a person a whole head shorter than himself. They went round and round the small kitchen table. "You shouldn't even know shit like that. Hurley, come on."

"Please?" Andy reached out his hands, palms out in an attempt to soothe Matt, who was looking as if he wanted to simply bolt. He let his hands rest on Matt's wide shoulders and then slid them down over his arms, gripping his wrists loosely. He gazed up earnestly into Matt's face. "I won't tell anybody, I promise."

Matt shot him a surprised looked, which melted into a kind of wry amusement. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again; tugging his wrists out of Andy's hands, he inclined his head and walked off.

Andy grabbed the feather off the counter and followed him quickly. Matt was closing the windows in his room and drawing the blinds tight. As Andy closed the door, Matt switched on the lamp at his desk and asked, "Did you lock the door? Okay. Here we go."

He pulled off his shirt and turned his back. Andy watched intently, and then frowned. "Nothing's happening. Why is nothing--"

"Shh!" Matt rolled his shoulders. "Fuck, it's like pissing when someone's in the bathroom with you. Ugh."

"I can piss when someone's in the bathroom too, I don't care," Andy pointed out. Matt turned his head and looked at him witheringly.

"That's because you're an exhibitionist," Matt said and turned his head back around. "Now be quiet, okay?"

Andy actually folded his lips in, but he couldn't help a surprised intake of breath when two red long lines appeared in Matt's back. It looked painful when the wings began to slide out, but Matt didn't make a sound. At first, the dark shapes were far more slender than Andy thought they would be, until they started to lift and unfurl.

Those things were _huge_. One of them actually couldn't extend fully, the tip of it cramped against the wall. The other one was almost in the same position and then Matt pulled them in slightly.

"Do they hurt?" Andy whispered and went closer, clambering on top of Matt's messy bed and kneeling close. He touched where the wings fused into skin, marveling at the brush of feathers, soft and warm against his fingers. Matt wriggled as if someone had surprised him with light fingers along his ribs, shoulder-blades flexing. "Sorry, does that tickle?"

"Uh, yeah." He shuddered as Andy ran his hands over the bony ridges of the wings. "Please don't do that anymore."

Andy ignored him and kept doing it. "How long have you had these? How did you--"

The wings snapped in suddenly, almost smacking Andy in the face and Matt whirled around, looking intently through his window. He was frowning.

"How do you know when someone is in trouble?" Andy asked quietly; Matt's glance was distracted and distant.

"I hear it." He went to his closet and Andy shook his head. People like Batman and Superman had these awesome hidden rooms where they had weapons and so forth; his friend had to contend with rummaging around in a tiny closet, hauling off his jeans quickly.

"One day I'm gonna buy a house big enough for a superhero," Andy blurted out and Matt paused in the middle of yanking on something black and close-fitting; his wings had retracted fully for this procedure and were sliding out again, accommodated by slits in the back of the suit. "Big enough for the Raven."

"I don't need a special house," Matt laughed as he fitted on that mask, hair hidden under hood. "Seriously. It's not a big deal. Just another day in paradise."

Andy didn’t know what was running through his head when he came off the bed, flung his arms around Matt's neck and gave him a kiss, sloppy and desperate. When he pulled away slightly, Matt's eyes were dazed behind the goggles he wore and his wings were arched around them, a soft, dark cocoon.

"Um. Don't get killed?" Andy said and kissed him again, smiling when Matt kissed him back.

"Can't get rid of me that easy," Matt said with a huge grin when they parted again. "Super healing and all that shit, you know how we do."

He turned and ambled off through his door, grabbing a long cloak from his chair.

"Wait, you don't fly through the window or something?"

Matt turned and looked at him in confusion. "Dude. It's easier to walk down the stairs," he explained slowly and blinked as if Andy was being purposefully obtuse. He shrugged and dragged on his cloak. "And the neighbours would get all suspicious if somebody with wings comes sailing out from four floors up. Later, okay? Don't fall asleep in class."

Andy heard the door close and from Matt's window, watched his own car pull away from behind the Ranger, Matt waving merrily through the window, a sliver of his suit showing from under the sleeve of his cloak. Oh, okay, now he totally understood that time Matt came home with the door of his car all dented in, saying that some drunk had leaned on it.

"I'm gonna get so fucking rich," Andy muttered, leaning out to watch his superhero indicate at the crossing and turn left. "And buy a better car, too."

_fin_


End file.
